


Only

by Shiplockrewrites



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Episode: s03e03 His Last Vow, Infidelity, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Mary in the BG, Season/Series 03, smut in the background
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-30
Updated: 2014-06-30
Packaged: 2018-02-06 19:32:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1869714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shiplockrewrites/pseuds/Shiplockrewrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He knows John is staring at him but he tries to ignore that. He thinks about the rain that is falling outside the window. Thinks about the cakes that Mrs. Hudson left on the kitchen table. Thinks about the experiment that he’ll need to start over because when John pushed into him earlier he was quite sure he heard the timer go but how the hell could he focus on spores when the stretch of John inside him felt like hope?</p><p>Sherlock and John find a few moments together in the middle of His Last Vow. Quick ficlet to get the scene out of my head.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Only

 

"I have to remember how every part of you smells," Sherlock says and shifts his body lower to nuzzle his nose into John’s chest. This after ten minutes spent slowly inhaling and exhaling the smell of John’s hair.

"I smell like sex and…mmm,"  John says lazily as if he doesn’t even care to finish the sentence. He is flat on his back with his eyes closed and Sherlock is between his legs.

"No, you don’t just ‘smell like sex.’ Each part of you is a fragrance all together different and it’s important for me to remember."

"Like it’s important to know there are 243 different types of tobacco ash," John quips.

Sherlock shifts even lower in an instant and pokes out his tongue to lick at John’s thigh then blows cool air on it. He smiles as it goose pimples just a bit. The raise in skin clears away almost instantly. “It _is_ important. As are you.”

"Why is that?" John asks and Sherlock can almost see the smile. Though he hasn’t glanced back at John’s face for a good ten minutes. He’s avoiding looking at him. If he indulges in John’s face then he won’t ever look away and he has to take his time. He has to categorize. He has to know. John doesn’t need to know why. He won’t say. He won’t.

"Because…I love you," Sherlock says and he mentally curses himself. He wants to look up now. He wants to see what John’s face looks like now that Sherlock has said it. Neither of them had said it before and it had become an almost silent agreement that neither of them would speak it. Not until the mess was all finished. But when will that be?

"We will figure it out, Sherlock." John steals his act and reads his thoughts and responds with his steady voice. The voice that matches the steady hands that John uses to hold Sherlock.  And the steady devotion that John gives when he truly loves. His steady voice repeats, "We will."

“‘Course we will,” Sherlock says and before he can lick John’s knee, he’s hauled up atop of John and he knows why. He knows John wants him to look at him but he can’t. He dips his head down to kiss John. His lips finding John’s almost instantly. He wants to stay here with his body on top of John’s. With John’s strong arms holding him. With John’s thighs pressed tightly on either side of him. He wants to stay here because he’s never been so afraid to open his eyes in his life. Not that time on the roof of Bart’s. Not that time in Serbia. Not even after Redbeard. This is true fear and he says it, “I hate this.”

John pulls back from the kiss and Sherlock closes his mouth. He knows John is staring at him but he tries to ignore that. He thinks about the rain that is falling outside the window. Thinks about the cakes that Mrs. Hudson left on the kitchen table. Thinks about the experiment that he’ll need to start over because when John pushed into him earlier he was quite sure he heard the timer go but how the hell could he focus on spores when the stretch of John inside him felt like hope? He doesn’t think about Mary. He doesn’t think about Charles Augustus Magnussen. He doesn’t think about the fact that he and John danced around this for years and it was his fault it took so long. He does think about how his life has mostly consisted of a search for a complex problem and now he’s found one he desperately wishes he’d never known.

John is waiting for him to open his eyes and it’s fine because he knows John will wait. He does. He waited two years for Sherlock to give him a miracle. He waited for Sherlock to finally say what he wanted. John will wait.

John’s phone chimes.

"It’s Mary," Sherlock says because ,of course, it’s Mary.

Mary won’t wait. Sherlock thinks and he opens his eyes. John’s face is wet. Two tears streaked down his face that have only started to dry. But the look of confusion Sherlock is wearing must be hilarious because John starts laughing. And God help him, Sherlock is laughing now too.He falls off John and on to his back. Side by side they giggle until the last few laughs die out.

"Only you and I could make it all so fuckin’ complicated," John says.

"Only you and I could make it."


End file.
